because I came here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I missed them before. They died a few years ago. Them and my brothers.”
“Oh no, Caelyn, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged.
“What happened?”
“A flu. I had it, too, but I got better. I lived with my grandparents after that. When they heard about the test, they wanted me to be able to go to university, which they couldn’t give me. They wanted me to be with other children, which they couldn’t give me. At least, that’s what they said.”
Her voice was heavy, as if she didn’t believe these things were worth being sent away for. Or as if there may have been other reasons. I thought of my picture from the night before, of the family like mine with all that food and the empty chair.
We walked in silence for a few minutes.
“Caelyn?”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t because they didn’t want you.”
Caelyn linked her arm through mine and we stayed that way for the rest of the walk.
—
The village had a fountain in the middle, and shops. The fountain was dry, but everyone raced around it, feet slapping the cobblestones, a thunderous version of Kammi running ahead to school. Our journey to the village had taken so long that it was lunchtime. Miss Ibsen bought fifty buns at the baker’s and handed them out.
After lunch, we went to the cinema!
I’d never been before.
First they played a newsreel about Sofarender and Eilean forces defending our cities.
“They’re a little behind the times,” the boy next to me whispered.
Our forces were still fighting, of course, but the cities and areas they were talking about hadn’t been attacked in weeks. Tyssia had moved on to other cities.
One of the proctors shushed the boy.
To any strangers in the theater, it would have sounded like an ordinary “shush,” but it really meant:
Top-secret. Remember, you know nothing.
Then came the feature. A cartoon!
I knew the story. I’m sure everyone did.
A princess lived high on a hill, as we did.
She was locked in, as we were.
Away from her family, as we were.
She was rescued.
Like none of us would be.
—
After the cinema, we got to explore the shops. We all liked the stationer’s best. In addition to pens and paper, it had gifts and toys.
While everyone else looked at the toys, I wandered over to the crisp new envelopes. I picked one up and smelled it, breathing in deeply, closing my eyes.
It smelled like him. Like Father.
My fingers itched over the sample pens. I could get a picture postcard and borrow a pen for just a minute. The stationer would surely have stamps, too.
Where was Miss Ibsen?
There, by the door, discussing the model aerials with Hamlin and a few other boys. The boys were probably complaining about structural inaccuracies in the models. And begging to bring a few back with us.
I had the money Father had given me. Buying a postcard and stamp would be no problem. I looked at the pictures, all of this village or the mountain. I bit my lip.
Not writing home was a stupid rule. And they hadn’t reminded us today. How bad would it be if someone could trace my location to this village, half a day’s walk from Faetre?
I grabbed a postcard, turned it over, and uncapped a pen.
I paused.
What would I say, anyway?
Happy and safe ~ Mathilde.
I pictured my paintings again.
Maybe just…
Safe…Mathilde.
Why couldn’t I think of what to say to them? What would they say to me?
Was this one of those things that Mother had talked about, that the Examiner had talked about? How we protected each other?
That it was easier just to say
That was the right choice
and march forward, without each other?
“Certainly are a lot of you kids here today!”
I jumped.
A man reached over me, paying for a newspaper at the counter. The headline said BORDER REMAINS STRONG . Another thing said just for self-preservation?
“Where are all you kids from?”
I knew I wasn’t supposed to answer him. But wouldn’t it be worse not to?
“A school,” I
“What do you mean?”
“I missed them before. They died a few years ago. Them and my brothers.”
“Oh no, Caelyn, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged.
“What happened?”
“A flu. I had it, too, but I got better. I lived with my grandparents after that. When they heard about the test, they wanted me to be able to go to university, which they couldn’t give me. They wanted me to be with other children, which they couldn’t give me. At least, that’s what they said.”
Her voice was heavy, as if she didn’t believe these things were worth being sent away for. Or as if there may have been other reasons. I thought of my picture from the night before, of the family like mine with all that food and the empty chair.
We walked in silence for a few minutes.
“Caelyn?”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t because they didn’t want you.”
Caelyn linked her arm through mine and we stayed that way for the rest of the walk.
—
The village had a fountain in the middle, and shops. The fountain was dry, but everyone raced around it, feet slapping the cobblestones, a thunderous version of Kammi running ahead to school. Our journey to the village had taken so long that it was lunchtime. Miss Ibsen bought fifty buns at the baker’s and handed them out.
After lunch, we went to the cinema!
I’d never been before.
First they played a newsreel about Sofarender and Eilean forces defending our cities.
“They’re a little behind the times,” the boy next to me whispered.
Our forces were still fighting, of course, but the cities and areas they were talking about hadn’t been attacked in weeks. Tyssia had moved on to other cities.
One of the proctors shushed the boy.
To any strangers in the theater, it would have sounded like an ordinary “shush,” but it really meant:
Top-secret. Remember, you know nothing.
Then came the feature. A cartoon!
I knew the story. I’m sure everyone did.
A princess lived high on a hill, as we did.
She was locked in, as we were.
Away from her family, as we were.
She was rescued.
Like none of us would be.
—
After the cinema, we got to explore the shops. We all liked the stationer’s best. In addition to pens and paper, it had gifts and toys.
While everyone else looked at the toys, I wandered over to the crisp new envelopes. I picked one up and smelled it, breathing in deeply, closing my eyes.
It smelled like him. Like Father.
My fingers itched over the sample pens. I could get a picture postcard and borrow a pen for just a minute. The stationer would surely have stamps, too.
Where was Miss Ibsen?
There, by the door, discussing the model aerials with Hamlin and a few other boys. The boys were probably complaining about structural inaccuracies in the models. And begging to bring a few back with us.
I had the money Father had given me. Buying a postcard and stamp would be no problem. I looked at the pictures, all of this village or the mountain. I bit my lip.
Not writing home was a stupid rule. And they hadn’t reminded us today. How bad would it be if someone could trace my location to this village, half a day’s walk from Faetre?
I grabbed a postcard, turned it over, and uncapped a pen.
I paused.
What would I say, anyway?
Happy and safe ~ Mathilde.
I pictured my paintings again.
Maybe just…
Safe…Mathilde.
Why couldn’t I think of what to say to them? What would they say to me?
Was this one of those things that Mother had talked about, that the Examiner had talked about? How we protected each other?
That it was easier just to say
That was the right choice
and march forward, without each other?
“Certainly are a lot of you kids here today!”
I jumped.
A man reached over me, paying for a newspaper at the counter. The headline said BORDER REMAINS STRONG . Another thing said just for self-preservation?
“Where are all you kids from?”
I knew I wasn’t supposed to answer him. But wouldn’t it be worse not to?
“A school,” I
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